


There's No One Like You (M!DB/Teldryn Sero)

by Nudebeme



Series: Chac and Teldryn [16]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Foot Fetish, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nudebeme/pseuds/Nudebeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teldryn knows what it's like losing something before he ever had a chance to cherish it. The feeling never leaves, a haunting itch in the back of his mind wanting to remind him of what he's lost whenever he found himself alone. Two years later, in the company of his Dragonborn patron and living life to the fullest, Teldryn struggles to confess a secret to his boss all the while stumbling upon the very place he'd been running from all this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend any new readers to go back to my "Chac and Teldryn" album and read several previous works, as some are alluded to in this story. Most importantly, those are "Knocking Horns", "Feel it Furious" and especially, "Deathwish". I dedicate this to all my followers who begged to see more Chac/Teldryn seeing it is my most popular pairing <3

It was no small feat, killing a dragon. It is spoken of in tales across Tamriel, but to see one sweep overhead with flaming maw and gnashing teeth, to take it on with nothing but your skill and your wits and _survive_... It was damn near godly. The Dragonborn and his hired companion shared victorious smiles as they made their way through Whiterun's gates, hauling massive scales upon their backs as proof of defeating a dragon that plagued the hold for days.

 

 

Treated with a hero's fanfare, it was everything Teldryn wanted his career to become; the cheering women, the gold pouring out of his pockets... Could anyone ever feel this accomplished? The two elves where brought up to Whiterun's cloud district, they where regaled with praise and money, offered a delicious feast served by busty Nord servants in Dragonsreach. Along the way, a traveling salesman offered them a pick of his finest spirits for them to share tonight.

 

Day turned into night, and even though the bootlicking and the public praise simmered down, neither elf saw this as a reason not to keep celebrating. They where offered the finest guest room available in the castle, a warm fire lighting the gorgeous décor and now a large sack of liquor bottles to rummage through.

 

Finally settled in, out of their armor and into their expensive clothes, Chac was not going to wait around to get drunk. Teldryn found his spot upon a reclining sofa, his patron reaching into their sack of gifts to find the first one worth drinking. His first choice, a humble looking dark bottle with a label foreign and unreadable.

 

“Now I know how you feel about Argonians, and I agree with you somewhat, but you have to try their ale. My friend it is a taste that will tantalize your tongue just as much as it will ravage your nostrils.” Chac normally wouldn't have shared such a rare delicacy, but he poured his partner a generous amount, seeing the normal look of bemusement in Teldryn's eyes.

 

“You are a true salesman, you should kick this Dragonborn nonsense and pursue a reasonable career.” Teldryn carefully brought the brew up to his nose and gave it a gentle spin, all at once a peculiar stench of the bogs hit him. “Puh.. Oh, that's vile. But if you insist it's good, I'm not turning a free drink down.”

 

“Cheers.” Chac and Teldryn clinked their goblets together and drank deeply of their share, Chac trying to hold back a laugh of seeing Teldryn briefly swish the ale around in his cheeks before swallowing. Teldryn liked to think of himself as a connoisseur of alcohol, being so often inebriated, but he had to admit there was something special about the way that swampy smell lingered in the mouth.

 

“How do you like it?”

 

“Hmph.. Tastes like wheat left in bog water until it turned. I quite like it.” Teldryn helped himself to the bottle, pouring more of the black-as-ink ale into his and Chac's goblet to finish off. His patron belched behind his arm, and just as Teldryn was about to scold him for it, he himself couldn't stop the embarrassing updraft- which tasted kind of like the way Hjaalmarch smelled.

 

“Okay, Drink one guzzled. What's next in our little celebratory package?” Chac reaches into his cloth pouch and pulls out a bottle at random, displaying it for Teldryn to see. “Ahh, looks like the ol' Nightgrog!”

 

“I can't believe you actually took that, when there where so many better choices. I'm starting to think you prefer the taste of warm spit.”

 

“Come now, you can't go calling it garbage when you haven't tried it yet.” Chac opened the bottle (albeit almost breaking it in the process) and soon the strong odor filled the air. Upon looking into his goblet, Teldryn noticed in disgust that small chunks of mysterious black things where floating to the top of his cup. Chac however seemed delighted, reaching his fingers inside and scooping them out before taking a deep gulp.

 

He choked, and Teldryn leaned over to a pail to pour the swill out, before the gagging elf stopped him. “No! No! It's good, it really is! Just-urk..once you've picked out the seeds and the bugs, it goes down smooth.”

 

“Are you really going to make me try it?”

 

“I thought Dunmer where used to sieving ash out of their drinks...”

 

“Fffffine, you bugger.” Teldryn held his breath and took a sip, wanting to retch at the mere _taste_ of it. Leaning over, he spat it all out and poured the drink out angrily “Guh, even a bloody pirate wouldn't drink that swill! What is it made of, netch scum?!” 

 

“Hehehehehe, fooled you. It's undrinkable.” 

 

“I ought to slap you. Open the next bottle so I can get rid of this awful taste in my mouth.” 

 

Chac walked over to their guest room's cabinet and placed the grog there in hopes that one day a noble might chance upon it and suffer a nasty fate. He decided to be nice to his Dunmer friend and search for a drink that might appeal to him, and it came in the form of a blood-crimson wine with a fancy label.

 

“You'll like this one, trust me. Tamika Vintage.” The name alone seemed to brighten the eyes of his friend, watching him wipe the inside of his goblet to not spoil the wine's flavor.

 

“I haven't had the luxury of drinking Tamika wine in ages, what number is it?” 

 

“399.”

 

“How in Tamriel did that old merchant come across 399? Nevermind, maybe we shouldn't know.” 

 

“Just cherish the fact that we have a whole bottle's worth.”

 

Tasting it together, they both came to realize just why this vintage wine was so sought after. The taste was legendary, went down smoothly, and to top it all off they where already drunk by the time they'd finished it all. Once aloof and on guard, Teldryn's entire body relaxed into his expensive chair and he sported a handsome smile that Chac once upon a time rarely saw. 

 

“Next!” Chac beamed, groping around clumsily inside the pouch until he found the last one, and Teldryn only had to take a peek at the shape of the earthenware cask to know it was Dunmeri liquor. “That's matze alright, saving the strongest for last.” 

 

“So we're drinking hard liquor _after_ beer and wine? I thought I wouldn't make this mistake again.” Teldryn grinned, reminiscing on some gods-awful night of his youth he'd yet to tell Chac. “Whatever! Pour me some....no..more.” Teldryn almost playfully leaned over and peered inside his goblet until Chac's unsteady hand filled it to the brim. 

 

“And you call me an alcoholic.” Chac gave his own glass a hefty pour, and soon enough both elves where hunched over their goblets with bleary eyes and dumb smiles. They may have had full stomachs but it did little to dilute the potency of the drinks they shared. Teldryn set his drink down with a _thunk!_ And sloppily kicked off his boots, practically sending them across the floor of their lavish room. 

 

“Treated like the royalty I was meant to be, at last.” Teldryn moaned, folding his arms behind his head and resting back upon his cushy chair. He stared up at the vaulted ceilings, in a drunken state of mind now admiring the Nordic craftsmanship. “From sleeping on a bedroll in the frozen mountains to having my _own_ bed in a castle, now this is the life. And all for killing a measly dragon.”

 

“That dragon wasn't measly by any means, Teldryn.” Chac retorted, trying not to let his eyes linger too long on Teldryn's socked feet propped up on the chair. They looked so big. “I'll have you know that those orange-colored dragons are far older and more powerful than most.”

 

“It was easy.”

 

“Everything comes easy for you, doesn't it, Sero?” Chac grinned, knowing this to be somewhat true. He was gifted with a vicious grin and a wink from Teldryn.

 

“It's a curse, I'm afraid. Did you see the looks on those Nord ladies when we hauled those dragon scales in on our shoulders? I swear I must have seen one of them swoon.” the drunk Dunmer often was a fan of tooting his own horn, and Chac was always there to deflect him- it was ritual, at this point.

 

“I'm also pretty sure that cute archer boy selling meat was looking at you with lust in his eyes. Don't want to think of letting him sample a piece of your meat?” 

 

“That bearded Bosmer kid? I tried to ignore him.” He would have grubbed for a racist remark, but he couldn't think of one in this state. 

 

“I was actually expecting you to make a cannibal joke.” 

 

“I could have, but I don't want to sound outplayed.” The drawl in Teldryn's voice was particularly long and enthralling tonight, a drunken Chac finding himself battling the urge to flirt with him as their conversation dragged on. They've been together for months now, one could even say they've become inseparable as a team, but it never went past that despite Chac's wishes. 

 

Being here, surrounded by all the things Teldryn strove for in his life...the riches, the drink and the excellent food, it all seemingly felt a little over-hyped. Happy and drunk on life, Teldryn silently came to realize that all he was really searching for was someone to take the world on by storm with. It wasn't the riches, he learned. It was the conquest. The companionship. 

 

He remembered having that very same conversation not a little more than two years ago, with someone who taught him that lesson. Someone he tried to forget at all costs. Teldryn almost seemed to become lost in his musings before the sound of music caught his attention- looking to his right, he saw Chac sitting with folded legs on the ground, his famous snakeskin lute in hand. 

 

“Dinner and a show! Azura knows you spoil me too much, Chac.” 

 

The smitten Bosmer's fingers danced like spiders spinning thread, the lively sound of his music filling the room and the Dunmer's heart with cheer. It wasn't a song he recognized, but deny it as he may there was never a time he didn't appreciate his boss's gift. “Maybe I can invite some of those maids back in here to dance for you, wouldn't that be a great show?” Chac asks, watching Teldryn's every move and happy to see his fingers tapping to the rhythm. 

 

“Three's a crowd. But I'm not saying that your performance couldn't be a little more...dynamic.” 

 

“Are you saying that I should dance for you?” Chac laughs out, intrigued. He never knew that Teldryn struggled with unwanted dreams involving the Dragonborn's shaking hips and flailing hair, and he never would..but Teldryn didn't seem to be saying no. 

 

With a flourish of his hand, the Dunmer in so many words told him to “get on with it”, and so Chac complied wholeheartedly. Pushing himself up to stand, he made a spectacle of himself; to Teldryn's eyes a blur of brown dreadlocks, green tattooes and that garish yellow tunic he wore. Chac definitely had some dancing chops, he moved as fluidly as the music he played, rolling his head and letting long loose dreads swing freely. 

 

Chac kept his eyes closed to better feel the music, but perhaps to avoid knowing if Teldryn was ignoring him or not. But he wasn't. Teldryn stared and grinned, in his drunken state now comfortable with looking at a male dancing when otherwise he'd stuffily turn away. Finding the humor in it, Teldryn took a handful of their bounty gold and tossed the coins at him, making the elf stop and stare.

 

“Look at you, tossing my own money at me like I'm some kind of floozy! I really am flattered.” Chac takes a bow, Teldryn watching the swinging of his dreads as they fell. He really loved dreadlocks, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want them for himself- but on Chac? It may have been one of the few traits he found delightful on him. 

 

“Did I tell you to stop?” 

 

“Ugh, you know I would dance for you all night but I've got an ache in my legs that cannot be beat.” 

 

Teldryn was a man you didn't want to go without satisfying. He merely heaved a big, dramatic sigh and ruffled his mohawk, filling Chac with a desire to please him for this disservice. Hands still playing his lute on their own accord, the Bosmer approached Teldryn's seat, taking him in for the reclining beauty he was. Being drunk like this, it was hard not to think about  _those things_ . 

 

“Speaking of aches, I don't believe those new boots you got for me are quite the right fit. Nngh, I didn't notice how much my feet are killing me until now that I'm off them.” 

 

“-You want me to rub them for you?” Chac blurts, the first and only thing on his mind. Teldryn did a bit of a doubletake and saw that look in his patron's eyes. He hit a sour note on his lute, and drunk as he was, Teldryn wasn't one to forget that Chac had certain desires not many shared. Teldryn crossed his legs at the ankles and pursed his lips.

 

“You? Rub my feet? Now who's going to wind up enjoying that more, you or me?” He always had to be an asshole, that was his best defense, but as the time lingered by with Chac the more he unwittingly let go loose around him. He actually considered the Bosmer's offer, stretching the feet in question for a moment. 

 

“Go ahead.” He states, and Chac could have died just then. He dropped his lute and eagerly sat on his knees at the end of Sero's recliner, a positively creepy grin on his face. “Just don't slobber all over them, boss.” What the hell, he'd go for it. He'd never known someone to pay him AND rub his feet for him, Teldryn began to see it as sort of a boon. He was okay with it.

 

Chac went to pull off his sock, only to have Teldryn stop him. Briefly disappointed, Chac went to work on touching the feet that always lay out of his grasp. The Bosmer refrained from running his hands all over them to feel every dip and contour, instead kneading them hard. The Dunmer flinched, even barking out a laugh that melted Chac's heart. So he had adorable hiccups AND he was ticklish? Was there a more perfect man out there?

 

Teldryn never considered that a man with a foot fetish would also be the best at giving massages; he was melting like butter to Chac's skillful hands. He tried to hide it, but damn it being drunk and so achey did nothing to help his pokerface. Teldryn let out an audible groan when Chac flexed his toes enough to hear them all crack... Chac was enjoying himself way too much. 

 

“Do you like that?” he asks, and Teldryn's eyes fly open. 

 

“Don't say that, it sounds sexual when you say it like that.”

 

“You're the only one who said anything about it being sexual!” Chac laughs, digging the heel of his hand into Sero's arches enough to merit another deep growl from his friend. Teldryn, briefly surprised by himself, decided to oblivion with it, and let his eyes slip shut again. Don't think so much. Just enjoy it, n'wah. He had trouble doing so, these days. It was something that the free-spirited Chac often tried to drill into him, and maybe he finally was taking it to heart. 

 

When he was done, it was so very Chac-like of him to ask “Need anything else that needs a rub?” 

 

“Not coming from _you_.”

 

“I was talking about your back, or your shoulders? You look awfully tense.” Chac sighs, knowing it was definitely a double-sided question. Teldryn didn't like being _handsy_ , he wasn't one for giving friendly hugs or playful slaps on the tush. To actually have been able to touch him for this long was a blessing in of itself, one Chac will definitely be dreaming of tonight. 

 

“You've done enough for me, boss. I guess I should thank you.” Teldryn carefully flexed his toes, feeling like a new mer. “I hope you're not expecting me to return the favor.” Chac held his hand up, no the pleasure was all his. He just loved to spoil. 

 

“The stink of your socks on my hands is the only compensation I need.” He jokes.

 

“Is it too late in our friendship for me to tell you that I think you're repulsive?” Teldryn sighed, and no, Chac didn't find it hurtful. 

 

“You don't have to say it, you show it so beautifully every day.” His patron stood and left Teldryn to think about that, seemingly leaving their room to go freshen up. The gentle knock of the wooden door behind him left Teldryn alone. Drunk and now ruminating on Chac's final words, he actually felt a pang of sadness inside him. Being such a jerk was natural for him, but lately he found himself regretting some of the things he's said or done to belittle his friend. 

 

That in itself was unnatural. He refused to believe it was because he didn't want Chac to leave him, the very thought of being alone after all of this glory was...very upsetting. Teldryn's eyes lingered on his feet, thinking of all the lengths and breadths that Chac has gone through these past months to make sure Teldryn was happy. He hunted and cooked all their food, paid him handsomely, always made sure he was content...and to top it all off, he made damn good conversation. 

 

To lose that would be awful. Teldryn discovered recently that he hated being alone, left to stew in memories and regrets, something that Dunmer are prone to doing. Teldryn rarely if ever truly told his patron how grateful he is for all of this, how...happy he's made him. Something caught in the Dunmer's throat as he sat there drunk and embarrassed of himself. 

 

He knew what to do when Chac came back. He wouldn't mince any words, just flat out admit to his boss that he was really grateful, that he was sorry for being such a stone wall all the time. It's just... Teldryn knows loss, what it's like to carry the heavy burden of never saying what needed to be said before it was too late. 

 

But when Chac came back, walking in with his shirt off and a soft look on his face, Teldryn simply blanked out. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, knowing what he should say and what he should do, he merely sat there stumped while Chac prepared his bed. The faint smell of lavender followed him in, sat in the air like a ghost while Teldryn fought with himself. 

 

“Hey, Chac?” 

 

“Yes, dear?” Chac smiled, sitting on his bed and testing the lovely bounce to it. The mere utterance of that word scrambled all the thoughts in Teldryn's head and soon enough he was leaving the Bosmer there to listen to his silence. 

 

“...Could you help me out of this chair? I think I'm glued in.” 

 

Chac stood and gladly helped him, offering a solid hand that Teldryn took with both of his own. The Bosmer may have been shorter but his strength was inhuman, pulling the sloshed Dunmer out of his comfy prison. He staggered forward, not realizing just how much he'd drunk until he was lightheaded and a bit queasy. 

 

“Thanks, boss.” He muttered, and like that Chac was out of his reach. The elder elf saw none of the struggle Teldryn threw himself into, and went to lay down on his bed, letting his dreads spill across the white linen. Chac was saying something, something about sleeping like a king tonight, but Teldryn didn't hear it. Inebriated, he staggers his way to his side of the room, throwing himself on his own bed and struggling with his clothing. 

 

“Need any help?” Chac calls out, listening to the Dunmer's grunts of effort without Teldryn making any sort of response. Must be so out of it, he thinks. He smiled and rested his eyes, letting the soothing balm he rubbed on his muscles take their effect. Teldryn crawled his way under the covers and made some snuffling noises Chac could hear from across the room, rubbing his numb face all over his pillow in a drunken attempt to get comfortable. 

 

“Goodnight,” Chac sighs, pleased with today and eager for tomorrow. Teldryn didn't respond, and he could only assume that the Dunmer was out like a light the moment he got comfy. It was adorable. 

 

Teldryn lay there awake for a long enough time to scold himself. What was honestly keeping him back? He  _knows_ what he should have said that would put his wary heart at ease, but was it his pride keeping him from it? Was it the fear of letting a friend know he  _needed_ him? Curse you, Sero, he thinks. This pride has taken so much from you, so why cling so desperately to it? 

 

He fell asleep, knowing tomorrow may never come. He learned that the hard way. 

 

He needs to tell him. 

 


	2. Now or Never

It only took a few seconds after waking up to realize he wasn't drunk anymore; something that most often was a disappointment, but with his heart heavy from the memories of last night, it was a refreshing feeling. Winter morning sun passed through the stained glass of their elaborate guest room, warmth and the bustling sound of a busy castle just outside their door. He was awake before Chac, peeking over with tired eyes to see the mess of dreads hanging off the side of his bed, a bronze arm jutting from under the covers. Another day another adventure, Teldryn would have thought... he may have been drunk last night but it couldn't erase the memories of his struggle. 

 

Telling him what he meant, to confess that Chac was his best friend and to never let his cruel words make him think otherwise. He wanted to say it so badly, but how? When? Humility simply was not in his vocabulary.

 

Sero wasn't the sneakiest of Dunmer. Crawling out of bed and inching along the wooden floor, his feet made creaks and groans in the wood below as he made his way towards Chac's bed. Crimson eyes lingered on Chac's relaxed hand, briefly considering to tear the blanket off the Bosmer and shake him awake (as he's done in the past). No, today was special, just as much as yesterday. The hero deserved his rest. Teldryn backed away and left to freshen up and prepare for another journey; to where? he didn't know. 

 

In the washroom, Teldryn was given time to calculate his plan. He  _knows_ he was making it a lot harder than it really needed to be, but could you ever get a Dunmer to spill his heart so easily? He washed himself, groomed himself like the vain bastard he was, feeling that lingering depression that always came after a night of drinking. Two years, he thought to himself, out of nowhere. He stuffed it away, and returned to Chac.

 

The Dragonborn was awake, looking out the window while tying his dreadlocks back with a red bandana. He was almost nude, and when Teldryn would have otherwise chided him for it, the Dunmer said nothing. Dressing themselves in armor, Chac felt the need to break the peaceful quiet. 

 

“I received a missive from the Thane of Riften, she says there's a camp of rogue mages just East of here kidnapping locals for their experiments and nonsense. She promised more than just money this time. I think you'll be interested in what she's offering.”

 

“It's always one thing or another in Riften. If it's a house by the water, I'm interested.”

“More than that. She says if we clear out the camp, she's going to offer you Thaneship. Doesn't that sound fancy?” Chac was already Thane, but to be offered a title in Skyrim's court was...very appealing to the spellsword. His eyes lit up, mind racing with all of the boons that could come with that title.

 

“Huh, finally being appreciated for the hero I am. Thane of Riften, eh? That's a good place to start, work my way up to Thane of Haafingar. Considering all the shit we went through helping her, I'd say it's about time for some recognition.” Now _this_ was proof that Teldryn was finally going somewhere with his life. 

 

“I don't think there's a single Dunmer Thane in the entirety of Skyrim's court, you'll be setting a record!” Chac steps into his boots and gets comfy in his armor, prepared to leave. “Who knows, maybe one day you'll be the snake-tongued adviser to the next High King.” Chac briefly hunched over, his voice slithering and a single eye bugging out “ _Off with his ass! A fitting punishment, My King!_ ”

 

Sero snickered, months of being with Chac allowing him to warm up to his often childish humor. The idea didn't sound tempting, though. He needed the open skies and no duties tying him down; he was much too young for that. But the very thought reminded him that his patron needed to know something, now.

 

“Hey...Chac.” Teldryn steeled himself, but as soon as he caught eyes with his friend, he simply clammed up. Chac stood there once again waiting for something to come out of Teldryn's mouth, but the Dunmer merely took the easy way out. He made something up on the spot.

 

“...Could we get some horses to ride there? I couldn't fathom walking to Riften right now.” 

 

“Why not? It's not like we're short on septims.” 

 

Mephala curse him. This was going to be  _hard._

 

When they made it to the Plains District, they where offered free breakfast by a food vendor. Neither of them noticed at first, but months ago Teldryn would tag behind Chac as they traveled; but now they walked side by side as friends did, always a popular spectacle in every city they visited. It was the little things like these that Teldryn suddenly noticed now, How his attempts to stay cold with his patrons have failed, once again. Once they finished eating, Sero became a bit withdrawn with thought. 

 

He said nothing until it was time to purchase a set of horses, the stink of barn and hay in the air. Chac did all of the dealings, he simply stood by and looked intimidating when he needed to. 

 

“What do you mean you have no horses? This is a stable!” Chac piped up, seeing only one sad-looking mare without a saddle. 

 

“That dragon you killed? It took off with two of my finest steeds, now all I have is old Kyvya and she's not for sale.” The rancher admits, pointing out the burnt corners of the stable's rooftop. “Blasted thing sat right up on there and took a big bite out of one before flying off with the second in it's clutches. Damn shame, they where beautiful horses.” 

 

“Yes, I can imagine. Y'ffre this is a real damper in my plans. Thank you anyway.” Chac looking sad and patting Teldryn's pauldron. “Looks like we're walking.”

 

“ _Whaaat_ ” Teldryn moaned “Not even a carriage? Ugh, and I bet you'll be making us climb OVER the mountain like you did last week.”

 

“We'll stick to the road. I'm sorry that this is going to be hell on your tootsies.” 

 

“Well as long as you're sorry.” Teldryn sighed, shaking his head in defeat. Whatever, it's part of the job. He tried to think of Thanehood in his imminent future as a light at the end of the tunnel. Chac peered at his map before setting up a course, pointing down the right direction across the White River.

 

“Let's be off...”

 

Whiterun was a spectacular hold. The sprawling fields and tundra blossoms where a stark contrast to the ashy nothingness of back home. It's been months now that he's toured Skyrim with Chac, but still it manages to captivate Teldryn every time. If it was one thing these two Mer shared, it was an appreciation for natural beauty. Both of them commented quietly on the loveliness of the mountain range, the refreshing babbling of water and the whisper of wind through the pines.

 

It was then Teldryn started to reminisce on the first time he'd ever wandered Skyrim, with the Nord he so desperately hated now. Skyrim was something for him to experience like water to a parched wanderlust king like him, and his old patron was his guide. It was that year they spent together that the Dunmer learned the savage beauty of the land and it's people, He and his patron sharing cultures unlike any Dunmer and Nord have ever done before. 

 

By the time they where turning the bend around the mountain, Teldryn became sad. He always did his best to smother the memories as it always turned him into a sorry sop, not once allowing himself the right to grieve. He'd only lost him two years ago, the wound was deep and fresh. Why he let himself get lost in these dark thoughts he didn't know, and soon he was turning to Chac to find some sort of relief. 

 

“Listen, there's something I've got to say.” Teldryn starts, briefly slapping his patron on the shoulder and waking him from his daydream. He thought he was ready, but like a stupid child trying to court a girl, he caught eyes with Chac and his mind went blank once more. 

 

“Lay it on me.” 

 

“...”

 

It was then the sharp-witted Bosmer realized something was definitely bothering Teldryn. He had something to say and three times he changed the subject; this was something he'd never done before. Teldryn always blurted out what was on his mind regardless of circumstance... The thought of Sero being uncomfortable was disappointing. 

 

“..What are you going to do when this civil war comes to a head and you're going to have to choose sides?” Chac already knew this wasn't what Teldryn _really_ had to say, but he didn't want to pry. Teldryn was not a fan of prying of any sort. “I can imagine both the Legion and the Stormcloaks are just gagging to have _the great dragonbooorn_ fighting for their cause.” 

 

“You know I go through excruciating amounts of effort to try and avoid that subject?” Chac sighed, giving Teldryn a sassy look “I know what's on my plate, I know it's coming. I just wish I didn't have to be involved.” 

 

“Sorry, Chac. Didn't mean to bring it up.” Teldryn chided himself silently, all at once feeling more shame in himself for screwing himself over AND upsetting his boss. “Either side you choose, I'll be there to fight with you.” 

 

“I'm glad you understand. There's a lot of good people I know on both sides who will hate me for whichever side I choose.” It wasn't often Teldryn promised him anything, and it was within that comment that Chac slowly began to piece together what may be going through Teldryn's mind right now. Whatever he's holding back, it involved the both of them. 

 

Hours went by. Walking around the mountain instead of over it was definitely a break on the arches, but the time it consumed left Sero with more time to scramble for that perfect moment to get sappy. He feared that  _speaking_ the actual words, having them come out of his own mouth, would further ingrain the undeniable truth. He once again became too close with his patron, Teldryn  _needed_ Chac. If he where to vanish from his life, he'd be lost. He can't go it alone, not anymore. 

 

Dusk approached, and the haggard pair where descending down one of the steepest roads in Skyrim. It was so steep in fact, that it jogged a faint memory in Teldryn's head; he'd been down this path before. He'd made this turn, and remembered the shape of the mountains. It didn't surprise him that this otherwise rarely used road would somehow be familiar to him, both his old patron and Chac had a tendency travel the roads most sane people would avoid. 

 

“How far exactly?” 

 

“Not too far now, we cross another river and the camp should be just beyond there. We should have the upperhand by the time night falls- less guards on patrol then.” 

 

“Huh, so you said it was a group of mages? No wonder the Nords won't touch that, being so terrified of magic and whatnot.” Teldryn thought little of it, they've been through much worse. Sometimes he even felt that dangerous spark of invincibility; something he was prone to feeling when he was as happy as he was now. 

 

Over a few more hills, Teldryn caught sight of something he absolutely recognized. A ramshackle wooden sign at a crossways, a skull fastened to the top of the post with a single gold tooth. The arrow pointed South to Riften, East to Ivarstead. A pang of dread coasted through him as that nostalgic feeling became a full blown flashback- heavy panting, exhaustion and the rushed commands to run faster, to keep up. Yes, Teldryn had been this way, and it was a one way road to a nightmare. 

 

He refused to believe it, until he saw stone walls amid the trees in the distance, Rift mist beginning to set in the twilight air. The sight of a large stone-gray fort lie just beyond the hill, before it a thick patch of pine forest. Memories assaulted his entire brain, and slowed his gait to a complete stop. It wasn't until he saw Chac venture further towards the camp did Teldryn become consumed with panic.

 

“Chac, wait.” Teldryn gulps, listening to his boss hush him as to not alert their prey. This place was big, Fort Amol it was called, but it wasn't anything these two haven't faced before. Chac refuses to stop, sneaking his way into the brush just beyond the fort's courtyard. “Chac, for the love of Azura _stop_!” 

 

“What's gotten into you? Quick, follow me or they'll spot us.” 

 

Teldryn had no choice but to follow, and it was here did he catch a full glimpse of those dreaded gates, that long stretch of grass separating the trees from the Fort. This was where it happened, this is where it all ended. There's no denying that now- Teldryn is overcome with shakes, sweating and feeling panic unlike any other consume his body. It was one of the most gods-awful feelings he'd ever known.

 

Chac nestled up beside a tree, his eyes and ears turned towards the fort, noticing smoke coming from it; a clear sign it's being inhabited. The faint smell of ozone and void salts caught the wind and alerted Chac that mages must be practicing lightning magics inside. It wasn't a moment more that Teldryn's furious voice completely caught him off guard. 

 

“Let's turn around. There's no way in Oblivion we're going in there, Chac.”

 

“Why would you say tha-...Teldryn?” Chac peeked back and saw Teldryn in a way he never saw him before. Pinpricked eyes wide as saucers, pierced ears drawn back and fear simply emanating off him; he was going to ask what had come over him, but the Dunmer kept talking. 

 

“There's no amount of money in the world that would make me go in that camp. Either you turn around with me or I force you to.” 

 

_//_

“ _Are you mad?! This isn’t worth it, let’s just turn around! Forget it!”  
“There’s great glory to be had here, Teldryn. You can’t keep me from it.”_

“ _Listen to me, running in there is a death sentence. I’m not ready to_ _ _die,__ _man! Just think for a second!”_

_ // _

 

“Are you really afraid of some mages?” Chac asks, still oblivious to what could have come over Teldryn. He'd never once seen an inkling of fear in Sero's eyes before; the Dunmer had the heart of a lion, he must have been possessed!

 

It was then Teldryn realized that Chac was standing beneath the very pine tree that the Nord pressed him against, showed him everything they could have been with a first and final kiss. The amount of emotion that seized his heart that moment was all of the worst feelings he could have ever experienced at once. He can't let this happen again, not when the anguish he feels has yet to subside. 

 

“I'm _**begging**_ you, Chac. Don't go. I can't lose you too.” Teldryn reaches forward and grabs Chac by the shoulders, shaking him firmly. To relive this nightmare would be his death. 

 

Those words incited memories that Chac did his best to keep hidden. That night, drunk and high beyond belief with Teldryn in the forests of the Reach... When the Dunmer admitted a well hidden secret that he loved and lost his Nord companion to bandits in a fort. All the pieces of the puzzle came together, and Chac briefly glanced at the fortress before them. This must be the place. Chac played innocent.

 

“You're not going to lose me. The only ones losing their lives are the scum that lie just beyond that gate.” Chac egged him on, intent on freeing Teldryn of the heartache that plagued him to this very day.

“Don't let a few wizards get in between you and your Thanehood.”

 

Teldryn was outraged, his face going absolutely pale before a look so vicious came to his features that Chac flinched. He BEGGED and still Chac didn't listen. It was then Teldryn unloaded a punch so powerful onto Chac's jaw that he sent the elf collapsing back onto the ground with a thud- he was going to stop Chac one way or another, even if it meant knocking him unconscious and dragging him away. He was  _ positive _ death lie just beyond those walls. 

 

He was ready to say it, because he had no more time left.

 

But it was going to take a lot more than a punch to put down the Dragonborn. Scrambling to his feet, the elf drew his sword and with a wicked smirk, he dashes head on towards the gate...completely unaware of the amount of misery he put Teldryn into at that moment.

 

 

_ // _

“ _Then stay. Tell the world my story.”_

“ _You can’t do this!”_

“ _I’m begging you…Don’t go.”_

“ _Remember me, Teldryn.”_

_ // _

The first time, Teldryn didn't follow. But seeing Chac run in, seeing everything flash before his eyes and  _ knowing _ he had so many words left unsaid, Teldryn dashes in after him. He'd be damned if he let this torment repeat itself...once inside the gates, minutes felt like seconds. Whorls of light and heat sped across the night sky, the sound of blades rending flesh filled his ears and the ferocious sound of his own breathing the only thing reminding him he was still alive. 

 

In there he defended his Patron, his friend, with everything he was. This wasn't about his job, he savagely killed every last soul within those stone walls as a testament to his unbreakable will. He fought harder than he's ever fought in his life, with a purpose unlike any other. It only felt like seconds, but Chac and Teldryn left Fort Amol a massacre of mage blood and bones. What they've accomplished together was the one thing his patron couldn't, and  _ knew _ he couldn't. 

 

Looking around at the carnage, his sword bloodied, Teldryn collapses onto his rear, utterly drained of both spirit and strength. It was only a few moments to catch his breath before Chac slowly walks up to him, breathing hard and sitting down beside the Dunmer at the center of the Fort. Teldryn didn't look at him, he was focused on the front gate simply trying to gather the idea that he was alive, they both where.

 

“You probably hate me right now.” Chac confesses, seeing Teldryn glare at him with so much loathing. 

 

“You heard me beg. I begged you, Chac. And you didn't listen to a gods damned thing I said, you fucker... Why would you do that?”

 

“...Because I know.” 

 

Teldryn squinted at him, completely clueless to the fact that he drunkenly admitted he loved the man he lost here. “Know  _ what?” _

 

“I wanted you to come in here, to realize you're stronger than who you where then.” 

 

“You're not making any fucking sense!” 

 

“This is where you lost him, wasn't it?” Teldryn's heart sunk down to his feet, was Chac some kind of mind reader? “You where sloshed the night you told me you loved him. This is where he 'committed suicide', right here in this very fort.” 

 

Teldryn didn't know what to say, he wanted to slap Chac in a desperate attempt to redeem himself, to say that it was all lies, but Teldryn was simply too exhausted to fight it anymore. He was right, and Teldryn didn't say no. What Chac said next completely stunned him.

 

“We can look for him, if you want. He may still be here, what's left of him.”

 

Overcome with grief and maybe sick curiosity, Teldryn nodded in agreement to the idea. Now that he was inside, he wanted nothing more than to look for the Nord he hated so much. Just one look to put his mind at rest, it's not as if he could be hurting any more than he is now. Chac reached into his pack and popped open a stamina potion for them to share, giving their legs the much needed strength to get up and moving again. 

 

He wasn't sure if he should have thanked Chac or apologized just yet, still riding on the anger he felt towards him for putting him through that nightmare. Together they stood, casting small orbs of light over their heads to help scour the inner yard for any corpses or bones. Finding nothing, they venture inside to where they are met with the stench of alchemy and the rotting corpses of their captives. 

 

High and low they searched the fort, Teldryn losing hope that his body may be long gone and his gear sold off. It has been two years after all, and with the amount of scavengers out there the likeliness of them finding anything was slim. The exhausted Dunmer and his patron considered leaving until one caught sight of an old door on the far side of the fort. One last place to look, and then they'll leave this hellhole. 

 

Inside the smell of coal and filth assaulted their nostrils, and even if a brazier was burning it was so hauntingly lit that Teldryn feared ghosts would creep over his shoulder. This was a prison, there's no doubt about that; nothing else would smell this way. Chac led the way as they descended the oil-slicked stairs to the prison depths, managing to light the first brazier he could find. Once utter darkness, light cast a grim glow on every caged door in the room. 

 

Teldryn searched every prison door, finding them all to be unlocked with each cell lined with refuse-covered hay and broken beds. He was just about to turn and leave before opening the final barred door, seeing a scattering of bones resting on the furthest wall. Chac follows him, and it isn't until he's kneeling beside the remains did he see a steel shield perched against the wall, bearing the face of a bear. The only article of clothing found upon the bones where a pair of fur-lined gauntlets, the carvings unmistakable; not after the year he'd spent staring at those hands. 

 

His, no doubt about it. So this is where you went, fetcher? Got your sorry ass dragged down here and thrown into a prison until you bled to death? All of the repressed hate he bottled up seemed to simply flow from him, Teldryn now sitting on his knees besides the Nord's pieces, reaching his armored hands down to caress the gauntlets he found. 

 

“Is that him?” Chac whispers, seeing the intensity of how Teldryn stared at those bones. 

 

“The night he left me, I've been stewing in a cage.” Teldryn mutters, barely audible “Strange how ironic this seems.” The Dunmer took the old gauntlets and held them, watching hand bones fall from them and clatter on the ground. The hands he always wanted to hold but never did, because he was too prideful. They where too prideful. Teldryn just seemed to speak of his own accord.

 

“I begged him not to go. He knew he was going to die in there, in a bloody foolish search for honor. He kissed me, too. Right before he ran in... showed me everything I wanted, and everything we could have been. It seems that death was a better option than to live a life with me.” Teldryn felt an impossible tightness start in his throat, having nowhere to place all of this hate. Chac heard those words and couldn't stop himself from easing a gentle hand across Teldryn's back, rubbing it softly. 

 

“It's not your fault.” Chac implored, meaning it entirely. “Love can come from the most unlikely places, it knows no race or gender. But it also doesn't know how much fear it can bring.” The Bosmer knew a thing or two about love, having felt it so many times with all walks of people. Teldryn didn't look at him, simply fingering the spaces in between the gauntlet's knuckles. But he listened.

 

“Your patron didn't choose death because he didn't want to be with you. I think he simply refused to believe he could feel such a way for you. Nords and their honor... It's his loss, Teldryn. You're an amazing man.” 

 

Teldryn was used to hearing Chac praise him..Sober and too pained to tell Chac to shut up, he takes every bit of the Bosmer's advice to heart. He didn't think it was an attempt to get into his pants because it  _ wasn't.  _ They where words of comfort from a true friend. Teldryn merely looked down at the bones one more time before pushing himself up to stand, holding the gauntlets carefully in his arms. 

 

He wanted to keep them. A keepsake, for the good memories... Looking down at them one more time before packing them away, he chose to no longer hate the Nord for what he did. The hatred that kept his heart in a vice quickly vanished, a weight Teldryn didn't even know he carried being lifted from his chest. 

 

“Let's get out of here. I never want to see this place again.” 

 

“Good. Let's get you that Thanehood.” Chac patted his back and together, they escaped the prison into the night. The lightest dusting of snow was falling, the tiny flakes catching on Chac's bandana and on Teldryn's beard. Unlike the resistance Teldryn put up to get past these gates, it wasn't until Chac was standing beneath them on the threshold of leaving to the wild outdoors did Teldryn finally decide it's time. 

 

“Chac. Stop.” 

 

The Bosmer did, without question. He'd be putting it lightly if he said he didn't want to upset Teldryn any further. Looking behind him, the sight of the tall Dunmer averting his eyes and rubbing his hair was a telltale sign that Teldryn was uncomfortable. Sero took a deep, deep breath.

 

“I want to apologize for how rude I've been to you. Last night, when I said you where repulsive..I didn't mean it. I never mean it. Well, you know how a Dunmer can be... It's..I'm sorry, Chac.” 

 

Touched, Chac simply smiled. Even if Teldryn rarely complimented him or showed his appreciation, Chac knew deep down the elf sincerely liked him. “Hey, I know how it is. I forgive you.” The Bosmer was about to turn to make his way out, but Teldryn stopped him again, seemingly not finished with what he had to say. 

 

“Wait, I'm not done yet.” Teldryn knew he was finally ready. “Saying this has been a long time coming, but I...want to let you know something. With what just happened back there, and for all the times you've bent over backwards to please me, all the catering and foot rubs and shit.. You showed me something I've never felt before. No one's ever cared the way you did.”

 

“Teldryn, hey-”

 

“I want to let you know that well... you're the greatest friend a man could ever ask for. And don't go being modest about it, because it's true.” Thinking of all the amazing things they've experienced together this past year, Teldryn now wonders how in the world saying these things was so hard to begin with. Chac was flabbergasted, he never once thought he'd be hearing this- but it was sweet. His heart was ready to throttle in his chest with every truth he revealed. 

 

“Why are you saying this now?”

 

Walls completely crumbled and in a most sensitive state, Teldryn decided to stick with being honest. He had even more to say, feeling so free now that he was brave enough. 

 

“Because I begged him not to leave me. I saw him run, and I could have said the one thing that _could_ have gotten him to stop. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, and that he should stay with me. I didn't... and it's been haunting me every day of my life. Chac, I didn't want to lose you without letting you know what you mean to me.” 

 

“I don't know what to say, Teldryn. But I'll be honest, it's what I’ve been dying to hear for the longest time.” Teldryn had already begun to understand what it must have felt like for Chac to be put down so often by a man he thought so highly of. Teldryn knew if he was in that position, he'd have felt like shit, too. He was so sorry. 

 

“One more thing, Chac.” the Dunmer stepped closer to his patron, taking his shoulders into his hands. It was the most important thing he needed to say. “Don't leave me.” 

 

“Guess what, Teldryn. You're stuck with me.” Chac smiled, and whether or not it was the sap that had gotten to him or the sheer relief he felt, Teldryn couldn't stop himself from leaning in and wrapping his arms around Chac. Their first embrace, Chac eagerly responded by hugging him back and letting his scent and warmth come all around him. 

 

The Dunmer was silent, yet both unwilling to let go for long moments. “I hope you know I'll be writing a song about this moment come tomorrow..”

 

Teldryn laughed, squeezing him tight before pulling away. “Be quiet, all this mushy talk is getting me too sentimental.” His crimson eyes where flooded with tears, yet none of them spilling past his lashes in a vain attempt to keep his manhood intact. “The last thing you want is me blubbering like a baby all the way to Riften.” 

 

“Don't you know tears are the fuel that feeds my music?” The comment meriting the shiny-eyed Dunmer to reach up and invite himself to pluck off Chac's bandana, using it to wipe his eyes. “You can keep it, Teldryn. Gotta blow your snot somewhere, hehe.” Of course he was trying to get the sniffling Teldryn to feel better, within the past hour he'd seen more emotion from Teldryn than he'd seen in the year they've known each other. The Dunmer was smiling though, deciding in that moment he felt more relief than he has felt in ages. 

 

They both looked behind them at the massacre in the Fort, and both nodded, agreeing that this was the time to leave, and put it all past them. Knowing Chac has promised to be his friend 'til the end, they both set off into the night with a shared sense of closeness they've never felt for each other until now. 

 

“Let's go make you a Thane.” 

 

“Is it too much to ask for you to carry me there, best friend of mine?” Teldryn jokes.

 

“No, but I can rub your feet for you when we get there. And you can rub my jaw where you gave me that wallop.”

 

“... It's a date.” 

 

 


End file.
